


The Boy Who Surprises

by luckless_is_me



Series: Of Robots and Gummy Bears [4]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Aged Down! Hiro, Aged Up! Tadashi, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Fluff Practice (that is not so fluffy; what's wrong with me?), M/M, Scene in the Life of Tadashi, What Are Summaries?, What are Tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:57:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckless_is_me/pseuds/luckless_is_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tadashi can't decide whether to be worried or angry and Hiro makes his heart throb in his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Who Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Easter!
> 
> A little warning before you read on: There are a lot of movie references/reworked movie quotes in this. I went a little... overboard. (̶I̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶b̶l̶e̶m̶ ̶o̶k̶a̶y̶)̶
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this work. All characters belong to Disney/Marvel.

"Okay, okay— so no shrink ray and no formulas that can turn me into a fire-breathing lizard at will. I can live with that. But come on, the invisible sandwich? That's totally science!"

Tadashi laughs at the way his friend twists wildly in his seat, one of his eyebrows rising skeptically. "I don't think it is, Fred."

"No, it totally is!" Fred leans forward, his grungy shirt rumpling around his midsection. "Imagine eating a sandwich," he says, his blue eyes wide and jubilant, "but everyone just thinks you're crazy." He lifts his hands up as if he is holding a sandwich and takes a bite, chomping with his jaw for added effect.

"Just stop," Wasabi groans next to him, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. "You've been on that for six years and it's _still_ not science."

"Aww, come on!" Fred straightens, kicking his white and green sneakers against the coffee table; several glasses threaten to topple over at the action. "You never like any of my ideas!"

"Because they're not science," Wasabi moans miserably, glancing at Tadashi out of the corner of his eye as if to say ' _Help me.'_

"You're on your own, man," Tadashi responds with a grin, grabbing his empty beer bottle and standing from the couch. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, letting out a content sigh at the sensation of his back popping before moseying into the kitchen and leaving Fred and Wasabi's good-natured squabbling behind.

GoGo nods at him as he approaches the threshold. He smiles back at her, despite the fact that she's sitting on the island in the middle of the room and his mother would certainly not be pleased if she were still alive. But it's fine, because she _isn't_ still alive and this is his house now, even if he's refused to change anything since she's been gone.

"Found it!" Honey Lemon stands up from behind the counter, holding up a sheet tray triumphantly. GoGo raises an eyebrow at her, but Honey just brushes it off, setting the tray on the counter before bouncing over to the fridge.

"What're you making," Tadashi asks, stepping into the room to throw his empty beer bottle into the recycling bin.

Honey jumps, spinning around on her heel, her sock-clad feet sliding on the linoleum. She laughs once she realizes it's him, green eyes bright. "We're making cookies," she exclaims, grabbing the gallon of milk and carton of eggs.

"No, _you're_ making cookies," GoGo corrects. She leans back on her palms, her fingerless leather gloves sticking to the laminate. Honey pouts at her, her bottom lip sticking out. The effect is somewhat ruined by the way she bounces from foot to foot.

"Then what are _you_ doing," he asks, plopping into one of the stools on the other side of the island.

GoGo twists to look at him since he's at her back now, her dark brown eyes slightly narrowed. "Watching Honey make cookies," she deadpans. Her bubble gum pops between her lips.

Tadashi laughs and settles in, slumping forward to rest his head in the crook of his elbow on the countertop. For the next several minutes, he sits, tapping his foot against the floor while he watches Honey bustle about his kitchen. She's been here numerous times before, and she certainly knows where everything is, if the way she comfortably goes from cupboard to cupboard is any indication of her familiarity with the layout. In fact, he's fairly convinced she knows where more things are in his kitchen than he does. She's certainly spent more time cooking in it over the last several years than he has.

He sighs a little wistfully at the thought, tilting his head slightly to the side so he can see Honey at a better angle. Tadashi did not inherit his mother's culinary skills. He's more than a little upset by that, but he can't change the fact that he doesn't like to cook and he can't remember his mother's okonomiyaki recipe for the life of him. He does like to watch people cook, though. And the way Honey Lemon buzzes around his kitchen like it's her mission always brings a smile to his face.

"Uh, Tadashi?"

"Yeah?" He pulls himself up questioningly at the apprehensive tone, turning his attention away from Honey to the doorframe. His eyes narrow slightly in confusion; Wasabi's face is pale.

"Someone's on your front porch."

Tadashi starts at that, frowning as he glances at the clock over the stove. It's after midnight already and the people that are currently roaming around his house are the only company he'd expected tonight. Still, though. It isn't entirely unheard of for one of the underclassmen to drop by in the middle of the night in need of help with one of their projects that's due at the crack of dawn; he put his address on the syllabus for a reason.

It's probably nothing.

"Okay," he says, standing. "Best go see what they want then."

Wasabi makes a face at him. Honey stops stirring the cookie dough, the bowl held tightly against her side. "I don't think that's such a good idea," she starts.

"Yeah, man. You should probably call the cops."

Wasabi reaches for the phone on the wall, but Tadashi stops him with a shake of his head, sliding passed him into the living room. He can feel GoGo's eyes on his back, but she doesn't say anything as he rounds the corner. He bypasses the living room and walks into the hallway that leads to the front door. It's old and the paint is beginning to chip off in places, but Fred doesn't seem to mind, leaning against it to look through the peephole.

Tadashi comes to a stop a few feet away, crossing his arms over his chest in amusement. "What are you doing?"

"Shh," Fred whispers, looking back at him with his wide blue eyes, "They're still out there."

"Okay…? Shouldn't we see what they want then, since they're not going away?"

Fred blinks at him before going back to the peephole. Tadashi knows it's too dark out there for him to really see anything; he's been meaning to fix his porch light for weeks. "We have to tread carefully. It could be a vagrant or a robber or a _super villain_. How cool would that be? I mean, it'd be scary, obviously, but how cool!"

Tadashi lets out a quiet snort at that. Fred seems more than excited by the prospect, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "So, what's the plan?"

"I say we open the door and run out— guns blazing! All of us! That'll definitely scare them away."

He leans against the wall, one inky black eyebrow raised, "What if they don't need to be scared away? And no guns."

Fred makes an exasperated sort of noise, twisting around to stare at him, "Fine, fine. Just you and me then. We run outside yelling on the count of three. Okay?" Tadashi nods slightly, bemused. "Okay! One—" Fred puts his hand on the doorknob, "Two—" The knob twists in his hand, "Three!"

He swings it open with a yell and runs through it, his sneakers thundering on the rickety wooden boards. The frightened yelp that comes seconds later has Tadashi running through the door for an entirely different reason.

" _Hiro!_ "

Said boy is sitting on the porch swing, his knees drawn to his chest and his arms raised to protect his head. Fred is standing slightly off to the side, frowning lightly. He appears to have stopped yelling as soon as he realized the intruder was a child. "Not a super villain," he says to Tadashi.

Tadashi lets out a long sigh, running his hand down the side of his face. "No, no he's not." Hiro seems to perk up at the sound of his voice, straightening his back and letting his arms drop away from his face— only to reveal a very bloody nose and multiple scrapes along his cheeks. _Holy_ — "What happened to you," he asks, rushing forward to inspect the damage, his hands instantly roaming over Hiro's face and neck.

"I'm fine," Hiro swats his hands away, dropping his knees so he's sitting correctly. Tadashi looks at him skeptically; Hiro scowls in response.

"You know him, Tadashi?" Fred leans over them, his shaggy blond hair brushing against his shoulder as he peers at Hiro. Hiro bows his head, and Tadashi can just barely see his fingers tightening their grip on the swing. He looks distinctly uncomfortable at having an audience.

Tadashi pats his knee soothingly before twisting to glance up at Fred. "Yeah," he says. "This is Hiro. Umm— would you mind letting the others know that we're not being attacked? I think Wasabi was about to have a panic attack. We'll be in to join you guys in a few minutes."

"Sure," Fred shrugs. He ruffles Hiro's hair before skipping back into the house. Hiro visibly relaxes when he leaves, his back sinking against the swing.

"So," Tadashi starts, letting the word hang between them, "are you going to tell me what you're doing here? You know it's the middle of the night, right?"

Hiro grimaces, "It's not like I have school in the morning or anything."

Tadashi crosses his arms, unimpressed by the way Hiro completely avoided his question. And while he is right in saying that he doesn't have school in the morning— because the little genius graduated _months_ ago— that doesn't mean that thirteen year olds should be roaming around in the middle of the night. On any night. "That doesn't answer the question."

"Maybe I just wanted to drop in for a visit," he leans forward on his palms and his lips stretch into a cheeky smile. The effect is more than a little ruined by the sticky dried blood around his nose. Some of it appears to have dribbled down to stick to his chin.

His stomach lurches at the sight and the thought of what— _who_ — might have put it there. "You didn't ring the doorbell."

Hiro bows his head, squirming in his seat. A tiny blush runs up his neck and paints his cheeks. "I thought you might be busy— or asleep. Or something."

Tadashi sighs, leaning forward to run his hand through Hiro's hair. There's an obvious bump near his temple. "And you're all beat up because…?"

He flinches under his hand, looking up through his fringe. "I tried building rocket skates again and ran into a wall?"

" _Hiro_ ," he crosses his arms in front of his chest, unamused. "Try again."

The boy in question balks, screwing his eyes shut as he reaches into his pocket to reveal a small controller, followed by a doll-sized robot.

"Bot-fighting, again!" Tadashi makes a frustrated noise, standing up and beginning to pace in front of the swing. He feels like a disappointed sibling— the worried kind that isn't quite sure what to do about the decisions of their younger brother. "You graduated high school when you were thirteen, and _this_ is what you're doing?"

Hiro straightens up in the swing, wincing a little as he moves to cross his legs. "It's not _that_ bad, Tadashi. Really."

"Uh huh," Tadashi deadpans, staring down at him. Hiro fidgets in his seat. "Bot-fighting is illegal; you're gonna get yourself arrested!"

"Bot-fighting is _not_ illegal," he shoots back. " _Betting_ on bot fights— that's illegal."

Hiro moves to stand up from the swing, but his knees buckle under him. Tadashi catches him before he can fall, his arms wrapping around him and hauling him back up to his feet. "Fine then," he says. He presses his forehead against Hiro's; big, chocolate brown eyes stare up at him. "Not arrested. You're gonna get yourself killed."

Hiro looks away, turning his head and biting his bottom lip. He doesn't say anything, and Tadashi just sighs, lowering him back down to the swing. He crouches down in front of him so that his face is just barely even with his knees. It's always better to give Hiro the most advantageous position during arguments. It makes him feel comfortable, but, more importantly, it makes him more honest.

"Where are you hurt?"

Hiro slumps forward, pressing against Tadashi's knee with his foot. His trainers are filthy and they leave a tiny brown shoeprint in their wake. "It's not that bad," he mumbles. "Just my nose."

"Just your nose," Tadashi repeats skeptically. "Uh huh— and what about the scratches on your face?" He reaches up to run his finger along one of them.

He scrunches his nose, wincing just slightly at the action and pushing the hand away. "I tripped on some garbage in one of the alleys— don't look at me like that— I _actually_ tripped. We can't all be graceful like you."

Tadashi laughs— a short and startled sort of sound— at the unexpected compliment. Hiro scowls at him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Okay, okay," he soothes, "I'm surprised you stopped here then."

A dark red blush runs up Hiro's neck until it's painted his ears bright red. He reaches out to grip the swing, just barely toeing the ground with one of his feet. Tadashi raises an eyebrow at him and he tenses. "I may or may not have really messed up my ankle and not been able to walk all the way home…," he breathes, bowing his head until his hair's in his eyes.

Tadashi blinks up at him before groaning, "Which foot is it?"

"The right one."

He holds his hand out and Hiro carefully slides his foot into it. The weight of it is substantial, but Tadashi's still startled by how thin it is. He's much taller than the four year old he once was, but Tadashi's not entirely sure that he's gained any width over the last nine years. It's strangely upsetting, and he vaguely wonders if he should have a talk with Cass about the benefits of high carb diets. Or about the bot-fighting.

He's horribly afraid that he's going to get a call from her about someone finding Hiro's body in a back alley. Beaten and bloodied and—

He doesn't like to think about it.

"Does this hurt," he asks, wrapping his hand around the area where Hiro's shoe covers his ankle. The startled hiss and the faint jerk of the leg he's holding is enough of an answer. Tadashi shakes his head at the response, carefully unwrapping his hand and pulling Hiro's shoelaces loose. Once he has them untied, he slides Hiro's shoe off his foot. Hiro whimpers when it glides over his ankle.

And Tadashi nearly does too when he sees it, sucking in a breath. " _Holy_ — Hiro, can you even still move it?" Hiro tilts his foot weakly in response, scrunching up his nose as he looks up toward the night sky. "Okay, so not broken, but— this is really bad."

"It's not _that_ bad," Hiro retorts, trying to pull away.

Tadashi lets him, standing up and brushing off his jeans. "Not that bad," he deadpans back at him.

Hiro grimaces, "It _wasn't_ that bad when I fell. But then I had to run on it for a little while and you don't exactly live close to the bot-fighting epicenter, you know? It's probably just swollen— or something." He twists it around in a short circle as if to prove his point.

Tadashi crosses his arms, his shoulders straightening and pulling at the muscles on his back. "You're lucky it's not broken."

"No," Hiro slumps back in his seat, "I'd be _lucky_ if I wasn't hurt at all. Lucky is getting away scot-free." He pouts, "I didn't even get to keep the money."

"Unbelievable." Tadashi blinks at him incredulously; Hiro doesn't even look slightly ashamed. "When are you going to start doing something with that big brain of yours? You're smarter than this."

"What? Go to college like _you_? So people can tell me stuff I already know?"

"Yes," Tadashi pushes forward, running a hand through his hair. School is not an easy topic for Hiro. Tadashi knows that his high school experiences weren't in any way pleasant; he also knows that Hiro didn't even tell him the worst of it. But, at the same time, school is something that Hiro _needs_ and probably even wants— not that he would ever willingly admit it. "I'm not saying you need to go where I went or do what I did, but it'll be better for you than bot-fighting. And you _might_ even learn something new."

Hiro scowls at him, "I _like_ bot-fighting."

"And I _like_ knowing you're _safe_ and _sound_ ," Tadashi responds.

Silence stretches between them like a palpable weight. Hiro squirms under his gaze, his face still caked in dried blood. He reaches up to pick at it, scraping his blunt nails against the places that have congealed and solidified. Tadashi assumes that it itches. And it needs to come off. If his face stays like that, the blood might not come off as easily with a little bit of soap and warm water and he'll likely irritate the scratches on his cheeks if he has to scrub it off. He doesn't want that.

He sighs and opens his mouth, ready to give in and take Hiro inside because they need to wrap his ankle and get him cleaned up— but Hiro cuts him off, looking up at him with those big brown eyes of his. "If I go to college— _your_ college— would I be able to see you more often," he asks. His face turns bright red and Tadashi's not entirely sure why this time.

"Well, yeah," he says, furrowing his brows. "I'm just an assistant professor now, but I still teach most of the introductory robotics courses. You'd probably end up in at least one of my classes."

Hiro pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, "So I'd get to spend more time with you?"

"Probably."

And then Hiro looks up at him, all big brown eyes and fluffy black hair. "I'll think about it. Going to your nerd school, I mean."

Tadashi's also not entirely sure why his heart throbs in his chest.

* * *

The next morning, Tadashi wakes up with Hiro plastered against his side on the lounge chair, one of his legs tangled with his own and Tadashi's old shirt sliding down his shoulder. The superhero marathon from last night is still playing on the TV and his friends are in varying states of disarray littered around his living room, with the exception of Honey Lemon, who he's sure is currently running around his kitchen in an effort to make breakfast.

Early riser. He's envious.

Carefully, he tries to untangle himself from under Hiro's limbs without waking the boy. The bag of ice from last night— early this morning?— is nothing but water now, and it falls to the floor with a wet popping sound. He groans without even looking down because he knows it just burst open and the wet spot on the carpet is going to take ages to dry.

Hiro scrunches his face up at the noise and burrows further into his side. "It's too early," he mumbles sleepily, his voice a little groggy and muffled by Tadashi's clothes.

Tadashi chuckles in response, running his hand up Hiro's back until it rests on the top of his head. He runs his fingers through the knots there, relishing the way the tangles seemingly part for him. "Sorry. You can go back to sleep. Honey's up, so breakfast will probably be ready soon, but you can go back to one of the bedrooms if you want. I'll take you home later— after I call your aunt and let her know you're here, just in case she didn't get the message you left on the machine last night."

Hiro lets out a long sigh against his skin before letting himself pull away from Tadashi and sinking down into the chair, "That sounds nice."

"What does? Sleep?" Tadashi pushes himself up and stretches his arms above his head. His back pops beautifully.

"Breakfast."

Tadashi snorts, leaning down to ruffle his hair again. Hiro rolls to his side and tugs the hem of Tadashi's shirt down so it doesn't bunch up around his stomach. "I'll go ask Honey when it'll be ready."

"Aye, aye, captain," Hiro snuggles into the arm of the chair, pressing his nose against the fabric as he curls into a tight ball.

He smiles at the sight, shaking his head before turning toward the kitchen. He can just barely see Honey reaching for the plates on one of the top shelves. Carefully, he tiptoes over Fred, who somehow ended up sprawled on his stomach, half under the coffee table and half in the space between the table and the couch. Wasabi is asleep sitting up on the sofa, taking up minimal space, while GoGo is stretched across it. Tadashi smirks when he passes them— at least she looks comfortable.

"Hey, Tadashi?"

He stops at the voice, turning back toward the chair. Hiro's sitting up now, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. "Yeah?"

"I thought about it," he says plainly.

Tadashi blinks in response because he is not a morning person and there's a layer of fog over his brain. "Thought about what?"

Hiro groans and flops back against the chair, rolling so his back is facing him, "I thought about going to your nerd school. And I'm gonna go, okay?"

Tadashi smiles for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> And thus we have part four. Poor Tadashi- Hiro isn't getting any easier to handle as he gets older.
> 
> I ended up dedicating most of this section to dialogue practice (because dialogue is obviously the devil or my kryptonite or something), so I'd love to hear your thoughts on the character interactions in this part. Or anything else, really.
> 
> Production: Part five will be posted on the 12th.
> 
> Reviews are welcomed and responded to! I'd love to hear your thoughts!


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